Moon Cursed (Sky Brooks Series Book 5) Page 28

  “I know, under no circumstance do I stop the spell. Stay in the sacred circle, and start the spell the moment my blood hits the ground within the sacred circle . . .”

  “Because?” Josh quizzed me.

  “Santa will put me on the naughty list.”

  “Sky!” the brothers snapped simultaneously.

  I rolled my eyes. “Because my flowing blood is what will be used for the transfer. Once the last drop is spilled, then the offer is sealed,” I huffed out. I had gone over it so many times.

  “No matter what happens, you can’t stop. If you stop, what do you have to do?”

  I sighed. “I must do the spell of purity, cleanse the area and myself, and start all over again.”

  Then Ethan said, “No matter what happens, you can’t stop. Even if the world is crumbling around you, the circle is where you will be safe. Do the spell and we’ll handle everything else. Okay?” He took my hand in his and looked at my palm and the healing wound from the first time we’d tried it in the house, when I’d stopped because the walls of the room had started to crumble. Watching walls come down and the ceiling cave in had been distracting. The trees outside the house hadn’t fared too well, either—reduced to wood chips and scattered bark.

  We had no choice but to find a secluded area with sparse trees and very few things that could be destroyed. I was glad we were outside. I had already done heavy damage to the gym and library. I was using magic so strong that it couldn’t be contained in a room.

  A large open field. The sun was starting to set, providing just streams of light to illuminate the area. Everyone moved out, and my gaze kept skipping over Cole. I wasn’t sure why he was there. Why most of them were there—there were over twenty-five were-animals.

  I knelt, placed the knife to my right. Damn, what I wouldn’t do for a spell that only required a strand of hair, even a speck of blood, or a patch of dry, unusable skin. Blood, a lot of my blood and in essence, Maya’s blood, was needed. The Clostra felt heavy. In the past, it hadn’t, but it wasn’t just the weight of the book; it was the problems, the responsibility, and all the lives that were in my hands.

  Ethan knelt down next to me. I was aware of everyone around us staring, but he didn’t seem to care. He leaned in, speaking for my ears only. “Be careful.”

  I nodded and he kissed me gently on my forehead and then on the lips. I could feel his heart race and mine increased in response. Sorrow and desperation consumed the next kiss and he was reluctant to pull away. “Okay. Ready?” he asked.

  I nodded. But he didn’t move. “I have this,” I said confidently. The false bravado hadn’t convinced him, but we didn’t have other options, so once again, we were doing a spell from the Clostra. I suspected that it would take days to reveal what else we’d done.

  “Are you ready?” Josh asked. When I gave him the thumbs-up, he handed me another book and then swiped the knife across his hand and formed the small circle around me while chanting his invocation. His magic ensorcelled me like a gentle, breezy cocoon. The somnolent flow of it moved around me in a lazy beat, became calming, putting me in a tranquil state. The sounds of everyone around me were reduced to white noise. Soothing white noise. It was better being in the open. Here, it was just me, the earth, and my magic.

  I rearranged the Clostra, moving them closer so that I could do the spell without any interruption. The book that Josh had given me held the Gem of Levage; I put it to the side so that I could access it. The irony of the situation didn’t escape me. We were going to use the very object that had brought the pack into my life.

  The vampires had intended to use the Gem of Levage to remove the curse that nullified their aversion to light and holy water, and the only sacrifice they’d needed had been my life. The pack had stepped in to protect me. However, eventually I was indeed the person who’d inadvertently given the vampires what they wanted, years later.

  I opened the book to the crimson pages, took the knife and doused it with the liquid that Josh had made to slow my healing. It had been used on me by my cousin when they’d tried to exorcise Maya, and it didn’t hurt any less when I did it to myself. I winced at the shooting pain as I sliced my palm—my hand felt like it had been set ablaze.

  I let blood trickle onto the ground and started the invocation. Dark smoke swirled around me, engulfing the air and wrapping around the trees, darkening the area, and coolness drifted from the book. A powerful force pushed into the air, leveling the trees closest to us. Bark scattered, and chunks of it blasted in my direction. I shielded my face to protect it, and after the shower of wood stopped, the pages of the book that held the Gem of Levage froze over. When the ice quickly melted away, the Gem lay there on blank beige pages.

  I kept saying the spell, and glanced over at Josh. He smiled. Okay, that part worked. Now for the hard part. I made another slice in my palm and poured more of the hellfire liquid over it. More blood streamed over my hand; I let it drop over each book of the Clostra. They absorbed it and the words brightened even more, ready to be used. My focus stayed on Josh.

  The moment I said the first line from the spell in the Clostra, I could feel her awaken—as she’d used me to initiate the spell, I would use her to end it. I read the first page with ease, a rustling in me as she bucked at my control. I continued, vaguely aware of the changes in the air, different than before, magic similar to what we’d felt at the compound, weak magic that simply nipped at mine. I said the final words, lifted the book, and looked for the source of the unfamiliar magic while continuing the spell. In my peripheral vision, I saw Ethan moving over the area. He took a couple of steps and then was pushed back with a force that hit against my back.

  “Keep reading,” Josh ordered. I looked up periodically to see what was going on. Dexter was the first one I saw, coming out of a distant thicket. The only indicator that he was doing magic was his open hand and his face, which was flushed with anger. He wouldn’t have been much of a threat alone, but with him were nearly twenty others. Diet-witches or not, twenty mages were going to be hard for Josh to contend with on his own. There wasn’t significant change in the magic; whatever Dexter had was overshadowed by Josh’s and my magic.

  Ethan was hit with another weak thrust of magic from two different directions. To my right, Gavin, Steven, and Sebastian shifted, along with several other were-animals. Dexter moved back, allowing the others to continue the fight. Things seemed to settle. I was on the first page of the second book, I just needed to finish. More commotion broke out around me.

  “Keep going,” Ethan urged, but I heard fighting, aggressive fighting. I kept going until Steven’s body crashed to the ground in front of me, nearly breaking the sacred circle. I glanced up—we were dealing with more than just the mages. Michaela and several of her vampires had joined in. Damn.

  They couldn’t break the circle, and I couldn’t stop the invocation, but it was getting harder to concentrate. Then I heard a grunt of violence. Michaela headed for me, slamming into the ward erected by the circle. Josh winced, feeling the hit as intensely as if she’d crashed into him. Her fist bashed into the ward again, and Josh cringed but made no move toward her. She whipped around. I looked down at the words and continued reciting the spell. When I looked again, she was behind him and jerking his head to the side. I looked down and gathered more words to continue. Another glance up—Michaela was gone, blood trailed down Josh’s neck, and Ethan stood next to him, looking at the puncture wound. I looked down at the words. Another glance—Josh seemed okay, but I didn’t have enough time to truly study him.

  I was behind a ward, I needed to do this. Refocusing, I blocked out the violence that stirred around me. Another vampire approached the circle. A lynx swiped him, his blood dampened the air, and the vamp fell. Just one more page. The wind whipped around me, and the temperature dropped again. My words were accentuated by frost. Last page. Magic was everywhere, blazing in me as someone fought to break the circle. Maya’s rage against being an unwilling accomplice was railing against me
. One more page. My lips were cold and my teeth chattered as I spoke.

  A stygian gloom fell over the area; the light glow of the words was all I could see. The final words fell from me, and then there was nothing. I was enclosed in silence and magic. It was pleasant, easy, a welcomed relief from the chaos. Agony came at once as I absorbed the curse of a thousand deaths, like someone driving a dagger into me for each life I saved. Cringing at the pain, I looked down at my arm; blood streamed from it. My shirt was covered in it, sodden, matted to my skin. I keeled over, screaming in pain. Finally, it settled. I looked at my arm and my body—everything had faded away.

  The darkness lifted and the area warmed to its normal temperature. I looked around, and everyone was on the ground. Dust from fallen vampires peppered the grass and lingered in the air, like pollution. Three mages had been injured and left behind. Josh, Steven, and Ethan looked over the area.

  I looked for signs of life among the fallen—not one of them was moving.

  “It didn’t work,” Steven said, wide-eyed, as he looked over the rows of unmoving bodies on the ground. Paralyzed by it, we stood waiting.

  And we waited. It might have only been a few minutes, but it felt like hours. I ran over to the books and flipped frantically through the pages looking for something, anything, that would be of use. The words were a blur and nothing made sense. The Gem of Levage had returned to its home in the book. Defeated, I didn’t know what to do. “Reverse it!” I yelled at Josh.

  “I can’t reverse it, Sky.”

  My pack lay on the ground, unmoving and not breathing. This was a mess. I’d screwed things up somehow and needed to fix it any way I could. Panicked and desperate, I did what most people would do: I searched for an answer and didn’t care about the consequences. A possibility flashed—the rever tempore. I tried to push that option out of my head. With apprehension, Josh had taught me the forbidden spell that would reverse the last twenty-four hours. It was one of those “in case of emergency spells” for when you had nothing to lose. They were my pack, and seeing them die absolutely qualified as an emergency. I was willing to pay any price to save their lives.

  I swiped the knife over my hand, blood eased from it, and I started the spell. The words spilled from my lips. I expected Josh to stop me, but he stepped back, his eyes sympathetic and full of understanding. I was confident that he would have done the same thing. I could feel Ethan’s eyes on me, but I kept going with the spell. Conflict over whether to stop me or not was displayed on Ethan’s face. His gaze swept over the area, looking over at the bodies of our lifeless pack. He looked away, a tacit acceptance of what I was doing. I squeezed my hand, let more blood fall, and continued. I felt the weight of performing such a dangerous spell. It felt like I was being drawn to the brink of despair. The sky darkened; sound crackled around me. Pressure built and magic wrapped around me like a cocoon. It tightened, restricting my breathing and movements, a warning of its severity and that it was verboten.

  “Sky, stop!” Ethan ordered. It’s not the time for that, Ethan. No rules, we have to do this.

  I didn’t stop.

  “They’re moving. . . . They’re alive.” I looked around. They were. I took a breath, and it felt like something I hadn’t done in some time. Ethan was busy checking on everyone. Josh stayed rooted in his spot, and I wondered if he regretted showing me the spell.

  Collective gasps for breath rang in the air. Winter was the first to sit up, and I exhaled the breath that I’d been holding. Then everyone started to rise, and I wondered if it was like this for all the were-animals across the world. One day they’d woken up with an indelible mark; some unfamiliar with the curse had sought answers. Days later they’d fallen upon death’s sword for a few minutes. It had to be a truly terrifying experience.

  “That was not cool,” Winter said with a forced smile.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Wherever you sent us to vacation. That place and . . .” She let her words fade away; she would never admit to being scared. I tried to interpret their faces. Had they been taken to the very place I had been where I’d witnessed the world before we had been changed to what we were today? The shocked looks on their faces made me think so. They began to check themselves for the mark, which was gone from all of them.

  I scanned the area. “Is Michaela dead?”

  Disappointedly, Winter shook her head. “No, she left when she saw they weren’t going to succeed. Leaving her own to die for her cause. She’s becoming a pain that I’m really getting sick of having to deal with.”

  Don’t worry, you won’t have to for long.

  CHAPTER 21

  I figured the party would go on until early the next morning—impending death was a heavy burden to carry, and its erasure was worth celebrating. The moment I felt I wouldn’t be missed, I slipped out of the house. Looking over at the sword next to me on the seat of my car, I found it pleasantly exhilarating to know that soon it would be slicing through Michaela. My phone rang. I didn’t bother to answer it—no sense lying, and the truth was just going to lead to me arguing with or ignoring anyone who tried to talk me out of killing Michaela. She had done so many horrible things that she’d pushed me to the point that I didn’t care about the consequences, but none of them could be worse than her vendetta to ally herself with anyone she could to hurt my pack.

  Michaela and Demetrius didn’t live together although they claimed to be eternally committed to each other. Their polyamorous relationship was something I didn’t understand and didn’t care to. I drove to the opulent house just a mile from the vampires’ communal home. A large fence wrapped around the house but was there for aesthetics and not security. I drove up to the entrance, opened the slightly ajar heavy wrought-iron gate, and followed the black oleander that lined the walkway. How fitting that the Mistress of Death would have such flowers. The oversized Victorian had large, picturesque windows in the front that gave a glimpse of the lavishly expensive furniture that reflected the same arrogance that its owner possessed. Even the manicured lawn and the large trees’ lush, willowy leaves that only allowed small streams of light in, leaving the pathway dark, seemed to reek of self-entitlement.

  I gripped the sword tighter. Fueled more by anger than logic, I hadn’t formulated a plan at all. “Kill Michaela”—that had been my goal from the moment I’d snatched up the sword out of my trunk. The fire of my anger burned so badly that I couldn’t manage to subdue it. I was tired of her, annoyed that she did whatever she wanted without considering that she might be subjected to consequences. The otherworld tap-danced around her, forgave her for her indiscretions and terrible acts just to prevent a war with the vampires. She was an overindulged child who wasn’t given any boundaries and seemed to be constantly pushing whatever arbitrary limits and lines in the sand that were drawn—for no other reason than that she could.

  If she had succeeded, my whole pack would be dead. The more I thought about it, the more the fire blazed in me. Gentle breaths or retreats to my quiet place didn’t help. I wanted Michaela dead and needed it as much as oxygen.

  My knock at her door went unanswered. I pounded even harder. Peeking through the window, I looked for signs of activity since the lights were on. The vampires used to have thick room-darkening curtains in their homes. Thanks to us lifting their curse, “creature of the night” was now a misnomer, and they no longer needed them. Vampires could walk in the daylight now without consequences. They still could see exceptionally well in the dark, and their graceful strides and movements often made it seem like they floated on air rather than walked on land.

  I turned the doorknob—it was locked, which was something I didn’t expect. They didn’t usually do that. You wanted to come in their home uninvited, good luck leaving unscathed. I wondered if she was expecting me. Did she have the good sense to be afraid? Probably not. Her arrogance and narcissism would prevent such banal beliefs and feelings.

  “The little pup has come to bark at me,” taunted the wispy voice behind me. I whipp
ed around to find Michaela just a few inches away. My heart pounded in my chest. She was a predator that moved in silence and was just within striking distance, and I hadn’t seen her. A mocking smile slowly moved over her features as she released the arm of whatever “flavor of the month” she had chosen for the evening. I glanced at her new project, toy, victim—whatever he was. He reminded me of Demetrius—a human Demetrius. Instead of black opal eyes that often looked like ominous bottomless wells, these eyes were light brown and lively. He shared many of Demetrius’s features, from the dusky olive skin and short dark hair to the tall, svelte physique. I wasn’t glancing anymore but staring at Demetrius’s human twin. Which only made the relationship between Master and Mistress of the Seethe seem more odd and complex. If Demetrius was what she wanted, why not just be with him?

  “He should leave,” I said in a low voice.

  “Don’t worry, I doubt he will be bothered by the Midwest Pack’s little bitch yapping and biting at my ankles. Perhaps he will enjoy the performance as well.”

  “He’s awfully young. Has he seen someone killed before? It might traumatize him.” My voice was low and dark. His eyes widened as he looked at the sword that I held at my side. I could hear the upbeat of his pounding heart, and if I heard it, I knew she had as well. I noted as well the changes in his respiration and that his blinks per minute had increased from eight to twelve. Oh, for heaven’s sake, don’t be a weird were-animal, I scolded myself. Damn you, Ethan! Damn you, pack! Now I have to sit at the freak table, too.